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“Wait! Just… just let me keep the car, I need it so I can get anyscrapsof money I can get my hands on!” he cries in reply, already letting a few tears fall from his face. From what, I have no idea.
“I’ve seen enough movies to know you’re spouting the same bullshit as everyone else who runs a debt,” I reply, cracking my knuckles. “Ought to know better, considering you’re pulling the same shit they do.”
“Wait! Just… hang on, please!” his daughter responds, finally getting up from the chair she’s been sitting starstruck in for a few moments. I look over to her, my chest feeling just ever so slightly lighter, my mean attitude starting to break up. I have to keep up the façade for the sake of making sure this debtor knows his place, no matter how much I long to shed it in front of his daughter. She’s the main reason why I got involved in this mess in the first place. Normally, stuff like this is beneath me. I’m a fuckin’ boss for a reason, and I don’t go collecting debts personally—I have my men to do that for me.
The girl, however, is another story.
“Just… listen, what is it that you need, mister…?” she trails off, obviously looking for a name.
“Cardozzo,” I reply, sticking a hand out to her, apparently noting how she’s much more apt to deal with than her father. She shakes it, her dainty hand much smaller compared to mine, having been weathered after years of use and the effort it took to where I have it this easy.
“Nice to, ehm, actually meet you, Mr. Cardozzo.”
“Cassio is fine. To whom do I owe the pleasure?”
“Camilla Dailey, but I think you might have known my last name already.”
“That I did. Pleasure to meet you. Now, down to brass tacks.”
Her father looks in horror as I take a few steps inside, sitting myself down at the kitchen table on one of, quite possibly, the worst stabilized wooden chairs I’ve ever had the pleasure of sitting on. The whole place reeks of extreme poverty. Even if they sell the house, I doubt they would recover enough to get funds for the car. She’s slightly trembling, apparently far more afraid of me than I initially thought. No matter.
“I’ll let your pops here keep the car if you come with me,” I comment, looking over her expression once more as she’s immediately conflicted with quite a number of feelings all at once. There’s quite a bit more going on inside that pretty little head of hers, but after a few beats, she’s come to realize her options are too limited for her to refuse. She takes a deep breath and nods, seemingly affirming what she’s about to say for herself.
“Alright. I’ll do it. Just… please don’t take his car,” Camilla pleads, as if that’s not the exact deal that I had proposed in exchange for her supplementing her father’s debt. Some pieces just fall into place.
“You’re not doing that!” Hammond yells, still not up off the floor, only now shoving the door off as he picks himself up. He readies himself to fight, putting up his fists to block his face, as if his lanky body is even a close match to mine. Pathetic. “You’re not taking my daughter!”
“She agreed, big man,” I point out, standing up from his chair and kicking it back with the heel of my boot, the entire thing smashing into nothing more than wooden scrap against the wall where it lands. “I’d love to see what you think you have that I don’t that makes you all big and macho. Yousureyou want to play this game?”
“Fuck, fuck, FUCK! You better be good to my daughter,” he grumbles eventually, immediately downtrodden that he can’t have his cake and eat it too.
“Damn right.” I stand up, looking over the both of them, his daughter still certainly wondering if this is a good idea. She wears her heart on her sleeve, for sure, because I see so many emotions pass over her features. “Considering I have some other business to attend to, I’ll be in touch, Hammond.”
2
Camilla
This is probably the most brazen thing I’ve ever done, and I’m still not sure if I just signed my death warrant.
“I’ll be in touch, Hammond.” Cassio’s deep voice growls at my father, proving more than enough to start something inside of me. Something draws me to him, like a moth to a flame, my skin both growing goosebumps at the slight fear that grips me as well as the interest that has begun as a result of his entry alone into what I consider to be my broken home. As much as I don’t want to acknowledge it, he’s saving me from living in this horrible place, whether he knows it or not. The way I see it, it’s not really a punishment—at least, not to me.
“Camilla, sweetie, please be careful,” my father says, taking a few steps back as Cassio wastes no time in making his way to the door, offering a brief wave as he steps outside, then turning his piercing green eyes to me, waiting for me to walk out the front door to accompany him. “T-thank you for helping out your old man.”
“I will, dad,” I reply, equally meeting with a cacophony of emotions as I step outside, the cool air of the late morning washing over my skin as we walk away from the property. I feel liberated even though I loved what was left of my family. It was still not a good way to live, but maybe I have a chance here. Maybe this guy has just offered me a way out and given me something to look forward to rather than every last dreary day being something worth less and less than the last. I look back at the house one more time, wishing I had only a little bit more regret for leaving. There’s a slight fear of the unknown. What will happen to me? What will Cassio do? But I quickly realize that I’m more scared of staying here and eventually losing any hope.
“S-so, is this like a… human trafficking thing? Or,” I stammer, trying my best to understand exactly what Cassio has in mind. I assume that he won’t give out his real name if it means that he’s going to go around committing some crimes, so… probably not.
“No,” he responds flatly, turning the corner and heading over to the adjacent street. He takes the keys out of his pocket and unlocks a white Ferrari, the lights flashing briefly as he opens the passenger’s side door for me, allowing me to sit inside before shutting it and going around to the driver’s side.
“Then, why me?” I question, not even quite sure of what I just agreed to. Now that I think about it, this seems like a genuinely bad idea. But it doesn’t seem at all like the way I thought it would be. This feels different than I expected, only a little bit of my fear seeping through as opposed to something much stronger gripping me entirely. It’s like I feel safe when I’m with Cassio, even though I just met him moments before. Maybe I’m finally losing it.
“Y’know, been asking myself that question,” he mutters, backing up slightly, putting his larger, grizzly hand on the back of my seat before peeling off onto the main road. “There’s something about you that I can’t quite put my finger on. Something special. Something that I… haven’t quite figured out, even when I look at you.”
“Um… Is it alright if I ask you to… describe it?” I ask again, wondering if he feels the same way I do, slightly afraid of the future but slightly enamored by the idea of his presence.
“I don’t have the vocabulary for that, princess. You’ve probably got a helluva easier time describing it than I do,” he says, glancing at me for only a moment as his car picks up on the ramp and onto the highway.
“Well, I’m definitely afraid, but not that much. It’s like… just because I got picked up, or like what you have planned for me, or any of that…”
